Thursday, January 30, 2003
I Must Confess That I've Been Slumming...
I didn't really know I was slumming, but the hints were there. I just chose to ignore the signs, because I was enjoying myself.
Isn’t that how it always goes? I was goofing off in http://www.right-thinking.com
and in http://kimdutoit.com
The problem? They call themselves conservatives, and they pretty much tend to talk the talk. But they are both pro abortion, pro drug legalization, pro faggotry, and so on.
Yep, stealth liberals. It makes me genuinely sad. I am literally feeling so betrayed that there is an ache in my heart. Bet you think I didn’t have one of those, eh?
Well, I’m out of there, even though I really enjoyed the interplay and liberal bashing. I still like the guys well enough who host those sites, I just can’t, in good conscience, hang out there anymore.
This is why the only true friend I have is my wife, because she and I agree fully on all of the truly important issues.
I’ll meet someone who I think “hmmm, maybe I could make a friend, here” and then they say something to the effect that “what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own bedroom doesn’t effect me”
or “anybody who is anti-abortion and pro death penalty is just a hypocrite”
and the blatant wrongness of statements such as those, and all the other claptrap that proves they are another successful graduate of the American public school system, just knocks the wind out of me.
Oh, I could sit around in a bar with them and shoot the shit (except I don’t go to bars anymore), but I realize that true friendship will just not be possible unless one of us changes...and I’ve spent too much time and research, and have too much experience to change now.
Is that why I blog? Because I’m lonely?
Hmmmm, it’s possible...
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
I Talk With Real Marines A Lot...
Some of them are my sons.
I have asked for an ear collection, but none of those worthless brown ones. I want the white ones from the 'human shields'.
You who think to stand against us should be very afraid. All of your logic and pretty words are as nothing, when the bayonet goes in and twists...
And don't think that you matter, there on the ground, because he is already moving on to his next victim...
Yeah, we gave them cookies and water in the last one...they surrendered to us in droves, and it was almost comical.
Of course, we buried a whole bunch of Islamo-turds in miles of trenches, but that was just the most sanitary thing to do, dontcha-know...
We didn't have the images of our people falling to their deaths, then...the hard SMACK
that made even seasoned firefighters flinch...
We didn't have the images of couples leaping, hand in hand, to spatter many stories below, never to be buried together...
We didn't have the image of our own planes augering into our own buildings, while our breakfast cooled unnoticed on the counters of our kitchens, while we decided to keep the kids home that day...
And then we saw the films of little raghead bastards celebrating, dancing in our own streets, and in the 'Arab Streets', throwing candy to cheering little Ay-rab animals...
The rage has been simmering, and now hundreds of thousands of us are going to descend on the first target and annhiliate it, and slaughter until we get our fill, and then we are going to move on to the next target...
Why do you think we need all of those carrier battle groups for just one shitty camel-dump of a country?
Oh, just watch the dominoes fall, and watch people like me, here in the rear with the gear, use our highly trained skills when the Arab sleepers finally awake...
God is Great...
Friday, January 17, 2003
I just got a call from one of my Marine sons who had signed up and contracted for a supply MOS, just passed all of his training and testing in the MOS with flying colors, and is now headed to Kuwait as a grunt...
Oh, he'll be guarding supply lines, but that is about as close as he'll get to 'Supply'.
Tell your young'ns this
cautionary tale when they come to you with a desire to volunteer.
It just pisses me off that contracts aren't honored any more. It bugs me that he's going...heck, I wouldn't want him going there as a tourist...and I could understand it if he was needed to replace a combat casualty, but this appears to me to be just more GI chickenshit.
My other Marine is gung ho to go, but they won't let him go...appears he's more valuable as a recruiter, hustling more wide-eyed innocents in to get fucked over.
Monday, January 13, 2003
Hey, anybody wants me to quit cussing, just ask...anyone? No? I know some of you people listen to Howard Stern, c'mon, you sure you don't want me to bring my rants up to his level of cultured sensitivity? Maybe I should start posting pictures of hot naked lesbians? Anybody who disagrees with me, I hope your dog cums on your face...
Oooops, did I go too far this time? Sorry, I'll change for you...
Sunday, January 12, 2003
I guess I'm just not 'up on things'. Where in the Righteous Blue Fuck did a retro-Clinton piece of shit spic fuckhead like Bill Richardson get the permission to deal with North Korean envoys in our name? Do governors make foreign policy for the Bush administration now? How come I don't hear other people asking this question? Even that dessicated turd Jimmy Carter seems to attempt to get government permission before he goes about dealing with foreign governments, and he was a U.S. President, for shit's sake, not some member of a criminal gang who probably sold secrets to China (and probably others) directly.
Well, I understand Colon-Polyp Powell is dealing with Mr. Bill, so it must be sanctioned in some way. This one has me just all bepuzzled.
It's all been said...
Well, it's happened. At approximately 8:17 this morning, someone, somewhere, said the last word, and now everything being said is just repetition. There is no longer anything new under the sun. There may be some new scientific or archeological find that we haven't seen, yet, but everything will have already been said about that, too.
You may all just as well be quiet, now, because whether you are whispering in your wife's ear during sex, or speaking in front of an audience, you are just repeating the blather of others.
Saturday, January 11, 2003
I Heard The Other Day...
...that more people die from the flu each year than die of AIDS, and yet I fail to discern a flu ribbon on the lapels of the soft hearted and softheaded.
Instead, I am expected to send my tax money overseas, so some African baby-raper can live another day to bust open some screaming little infant girls pussy, and then pass the poison into her.
I read today that two Palestinkian boys, ages 8 and 13, were apprehended in an Israeli community (in Israel) while they were in the middle of an attempted murder spree.
Yes folks, the little bastards are being 'jumped in' to criminal gangs like Hamas and Al Aqsucka's. To 'make their bones', they must go forth and kill Jews. These little fella's were enthusiastic, but luckily for their targets, they just weren't any good at it.
I don't know why or how the little wastes of skin survived...Jews are either exercising restraint like I never knew was possible, or Jews are just shitty shots.
Some little raghead swine breaks into MY
house and proceeds to fillet my little son or daughter, the Jews in the trash bag suits are gonna be sponging up bits of him from all over my house, later. Then I'd mail the little fuckers head to his mom.
I bought myself a little Koran the other day...
Ornate-looking piece of pagan gimcrackery.
I tried wiping my ass with a few torn out pages, but the resulting inkstain on my starfish was hard on my briefs, so, instead, I now just tear off a page, and drop it down in the mess, and piss on it, and then flush.
Hey, you got your candle-light vigils, don't mess with mine.
Friday, January 10, 2003
I Just Now...
...had one of the proudest moments of my life.
I had bought some cheap-ass cookies. You know the kind, the crisp creme wafers that come in white and pink and brown.
I was feeding my small children like they were baby goats at the petting zoo, and I munched one and gave my wife another, and, gourmand that she is, she began to inquire as to what was the 'magic flavor' that these cookies contain that makes you scarf the whole package and snuffle in the wrapper for crumbs.
Ever helpful, I opined that perhaps it was the "squeezings of the vaginal warts of the Prophet Mohamud's wife"
, whereupon she lurched quickly to the downstairs bathroom and vomited.
She is now sitting queazily on the couch as we speak, mopping her brow, and trying to hold back more gorge...boy is she pissed.
My other proud family moment was about six or seven years ago, when one of my now Marines was about thirteen or so.
I was joking around with one of his older brothers, while he was eating dinner by himself at the table, minding his own business.
I remember I said something about 'giving an elderly woman head was like spreading open a grilled cheese sandwich', and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him puke up quietly onto his plate...boy was he mad.
I think I may have dislocated a couple of ribs, I laughed so hard.
I was in a theatre some years ago, staying on the barf theme, and it was a horror movie, and there was some pretty enthusiastic mayhem going on up on the screen. It was graphic, and ugly, and there was no music, and you could hear the cutting and the gargled groans and the splash of blood and viscera, and you could just feel
the audience all tense and primed...
So, I mimicked a real grotesque vomit sound, all "bluuuurrrggghhh"
and all, and some chick a few rows in front of me just lost it, hurking wildly, and you could hear the splash bigtime, and then some chick behind me blew chunks, and a real puke-fest ensued.
It was awesome.
I'm guessing I triggered at least five or six full glottal pukes, and goodness knows how many other saliva drooling private hurk-fests ("I will not puke...I will NOT puke"uuurrrrghghghg
Oh, and the secret flavor is just plain old citrus.
These cookies rule, too.
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
Blogging is like masturbating in public...maybe even at your family reunion. I've read such personal, weird, and serious shit...heck, I've written some of it myself. I was just taking a toxic dump, and an epiphany hit me...I'm a cross between Dave Barry, The Punisher, and that bald cop Vic Mackey from 'The Shield', though I'm not capable of his level of corruption. Who needs to know that besides me? I dunno...this is one weird phenomenon....
G'night folks, and remember...don't hurt anybody, unless they really need hurting
I've received some complaints about me not having a comments section like so many other blogs do. I will NEVER have a comments section, because once I've said something, that is pretty much all that needs to be said. If you argue, you will only piss me off and worse, bore me. I hate those blogs where some liberal shithead shoots off his or her mouth and then well meaning conservatives post dreary missives and piles of 'facts' and statistics to prove the liberal wrong, when everybody knows the liberal is wrong simply because they are liberal. Simple. Problem solved. Case closed.
You can email me and we can chat...if I find it entertaining, I may post it. But this is my blog, my opinion, my sandbox, my toys, and I don't play well with others. So feel free to fuck off and die, or start your own blog, have a comments section, and invite me in so I can pee in your pool. Almost always happy to oblige. Ta ta!
Tuesday, January 07, 2003
I ripped this off shamelessly from someone else who ripped it off shamelessly and please rip me off shamelessly and copy this and send it around the world:
Larry Miller wrote this for 'The Daily Standard'. You may recognize him from his work as a comedian and actor (he's been in everything--"The Princess Diaries," "Best in Show," "10 Things I Hate About You," and his turn as the sinister Doorman on "Seinfeld" stand out). Look for his essays in The Daily Standard every other week.
PEOPLE HAVE BEEN MAKING New Year's resolutions for a long time. Usually they're personal and last no longer than a smoke ring or one of Tom Daschle's smiles. You know the drill: "I'm going to cut down on my drinking, lose a few pounds, and read more books." Of course, by January 3rd, you get drunk, order a pizza, and buy a satellite dish.
This year, though, my resolutions won't be personal, and they won't look forward. They'll look back. Four months back. As you know, since September 11, our leaders and soldiers have done a fine job, frequently a brilliant job. (I mean, please, how about that Rumsfeld? If he were a woman, I'd--Wait. Come to think of it, I'd still do nothing.) I don't even care that so many of our fellow Americans have been contrary and mealy-mouthed. What makes me want to scream like an actress and throw things is this: Since the attack, I have seen, heard, and read thoughts of such surpassing stupidity that they must be addressed. You've heard them too. Here they are:
1) "We're not good, they're not evil, everything is relative."
Listen carefully: We're good, they're evil, nothing is relative. Say it with me now and free yourselves. You see, folks, saying "We're good" doesn't mean, "We're perfect." Okay? The plain fact is that our country has, with all our mistakes and blunders, always been and always will be, the greatest beacon of freedom, charity, opportunity, and affection in history. If you need proof, open all the borders on Earth and see what happens. In about half a day, the entire world would be a ghost town, and the United States would look like one giant line to see "The Producers."
2) "Violence only leads to more violence."
This one is so stupid you usually have to be the president of an Ivy League university to say it. Here's the truth, which you know in your heads and hearts already: Ineffective, unfocused violence leads to more violence. Limp, panicky, half-measures lead to more violence. However, complete, fully-thought-through, professional, well-executed violence never leads to more violence because, you see, afterwards, the other guys are all dead. That's right, dead. Not "on trial," not "reeducated," not "nurtured back into the bosom of love." Dead. D-E-Well, you get the idea.
3) "The CIA and the rest of our intelligence community has failed us."
For 25 years we have chained our spies like dogs to a stake in the ground, and now that the house has been robbed, we yell at them for not protecting us. Starting in the late seventies, under Carter appointee Stansfield Turner, the giant brains who get these giant ideas decided that the best way to gather international intelligence was to use spy satellites. "After all," they reasoned, "you can see a license plate from 200 miles away." This is very helpful if you've been attacked by a license plate. Unfortunately, we were attacked by humans. Finding humans is not possible with satellites. You have to use other humans. When we bought all our satellites, we fired all our humans, and here's the really stupid part. It takes years, decades to infiltrate new humans into the worst places of the world. You can't just have a guy who looks like Gary Busey in a Spring Break '93 sweatshirt plop himself down in a coffee shop in Kabul and say "Hiya, boys. Gee, I sure would like to meet that bin Laden fella." Well, you can, but all you'd be doing is giving the bad guys a story they'll be telling for years.
4) "These people are poor and helpless, and that's why they're angry at us."
Uh-huh, and Jeffrey Dahmer's frozen head collection was just a desperate cry for help. The terrorists and their backers are richer than Elton John and, ironically, a good deal less annoying. The poor helpless people, you see, are the villagers they tortured and murdered to stay in power. Mohamed Atta, one of the evil scumbags who steered those planes into the killing grounds (I'm sorry, one of the "alleged hijackers," according to CNN-they stopped using the word "terrorist," you know), is the son of a Cairo surgeon. But you knew this, too. In the sixties and seventies, all the pinheads marching against the war were upper-middle-class college kids who grabbed any cause they could think of to get out of their final papers and spend more time drinking. At least, that was my excuse. It's the same today. Take the Anti-Global-Warming (or is it World Trade? Oh-who-knows-what-the-hell-they-want demonstrators) They all charged their black outfits and plane tickets on dad's credit card(!) before driving to the airport in their SUV's.
5) "Any profiling is racial profiling."
Who's killing us here, the Norwegians? Just days after the attack, the New York Times had an article saying dozens of extended members of the gazillionaire bin Laden family living in America were afraid of reprisals and left in a huff, never to return to studying at Harvard and using too much Drakkar. I'm crushed. I think we're all crushed. Please come back. With a cherry on top? Why don't they just change their names, anyway? It's happened in the past. Think about it. How many Adolfs do you run into these days? Shortly after that, I remember watching TV with my jaw on the floor as a government official actually said, "That little old grandmother from Sioux City could be carrying something."
Okay, how about this: No, she couldn't. It would never be the grandmother from Sioux City. Is it even possible? What are the odds? Winning a hundred Powerball lotteries in a row? A thousand? A million? And now a Secret Service guy has been tossed off a plane and we're all supposed to cry about it because he's an Arab? Didn't it have the tiniest bit to do with the fact that he filled out his forms incorrectly ---three times? And then left an Arab history book on his seat as he strolled off the plane? And came back? Armed? Let's please all stop singing "We Are the World" for a minute and think practically. I don't want to be sitting on the floor in the back of a plane four seconds away from hitting Mt. Rushmore and turn, grinning, to the guy next to me to say, "Well, at least we didn't offend them."
SO HERE'S what I resolve for the New Year:
Never to forget our murdered brothers and sisters.
Never to let the relativists get away with their immoral thinking.
After all, no matter what your daughter's political science professor says, we didn't start this.
Have you seen that bumper sticker that says, "No More Hiroshimas"? I wish I had one that says, "You First. No More Pearl Harbors."
Folks, I only wish that I'd written this first, but I couldn't have said it better myself...